


Party shoes

by css1992



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Foot Massage, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 00:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21170726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/css1992/pseuds/css1992
Summary: [Domestic!Starker]They started going out together publicly and the press went wild, but they didn’t really mind. They went to functions together, helped at May’s charity events, had dinner at fancy restaurants or at Burger King, whatever felt right at the moment. Tony took it upon himself to dress Peter up, declaring himself the most stylish out of the two of them, he always picked the (matching) outfits they’d wear to go out in public, which was why Peter’s last day home before summer was over was so ironic.





	Party shoes

Peter was eighteen when he joined the Avengers. Tony had been after him ever since he got his powers, at sixteen, and started posting videos of himself on YouTube. He always came to him as Iron Man, though, on top of buildings late at night; in dark alleys, when Spider-man was overwhelmed and outnumbered; during world-ending wars against purple skinned aliens. Tony was always there when Peter needed him – or, Iron Man was always there when Spider-man needed him. The press loved it, they portrayed him as Iron Man’s sidekick, his apprentice. Peter didn’t mind, he liked it, wished it was true, but they only ever met in highly stressful situations. It was like Tony was watching over him or something, like he knew where to find him if he was ever in danger.

Which – yeah. Of course he did.

Peter thought his secret identity was safe, that no one knew who he was, but, who was he kidding, it was Tony Stark, he knew everything. He had been helping him keep his identity a secret from day one, had FRIDAY monitoring the internet for pictures or videos of him changing into the costume. He erased all security cameras’ videos of him changing carelessly in alleys – there were hundreds of those, according to him.

“A little dumb for such a smart kid, but who am I to judge, I’ve done my fair share of dumb in the past,” he’d said, shrugging, sitting on his aunt May’s couch one night, when she was away at work. It was Peter’s eighteenth birthday, and Tony Stark had just rung the bell, invited himself in and asked Peter to join the Avengers. Just like that.

“I’m – uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir, and I don’t know what use I could have for the Avengers, I’m just – I’m just some kid.“ Peter laughed nervously, wringing his hands, but Tony was barely listening to him, he was searching for something on his phone.

“So this isn’t you?” He asked when a 3D hologram video of Peter undressing popped up from the phone. Peter spent exactly fifteen seconds thinking about how cool that was before he started freaking out. “Your secret is safe with me, kid. I told you, I’ve known since the first time you ever put on that awful onesie and started punching bad guys.”

“Why – you’ve never said anything. All those times we met.” The older man put his phone back in his pocket, then shrugged.

“You were just a kid, you had enough on your plate just being our friendly neighborhood Spider-man, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with superhero drama. But you’re all grown up now and we could really use your help, so what do you say?” He looked at him expectantly and the young man blinked owlishly.

Peter learned that day that he couldn’t say no to Tony. Not that he wanted to, but he was used to being a lone wolf, he didn’t know how he would fit into a group of superheroes who had so much history together, but he said yes, anyway. Even if he was moving to Boston in just a few weeks, even if he was starting college – and not just any college, MIT –, even if it would be almost impossible to keep his identity a secret for long after that, even though he knew he’d have to finally tell May everything – he looked into the older man’s eyes and said yes.

That was when Peter Parker’s relationship with Tony Stark officially started, without the suits, and it was so very different from what Iron Man and Spider-man had. When Peter was in the mask, everything was so much easier, he was sassy, smart-mouthed and sarcastic, there was safety in anonymity. With the mask off, though, it was so hard to interact with Tony – the man was a genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist, Peter was just – Peter.

Tony noticed, too, he always looked amused when Peter stuttered and stumbled around him, like the first time the billionaire showed up in his dorm room one night and told him to _“suit up, we’re going to Wakanda”_, and Peter blushed bright red as he tried to cover his naked thighs by pulling down the hem of the old t-shirt he wore to bed instead of pajamas.

“You’re nothing like I thought you’d be, kid,” he told him on the Quinjet, when they were on their way to Africa to deal with some alien threat. He sat right next to Tony in his only clean T-shirt and not-so-clean sweatpants and he blushed furiously as he looked at the impeccable tracksuit that the billionaire usually wore under the Iron Man armor if he had time to change.

“I-I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze, biting his lower lip, but Tony placed a hand on his knee, patting it gently.

“Don’t apologize, I like it. Spider-man is kind of a brat, anyway. I like you better.” He winked, and Peter’s eyes widened in awe.

During his freshman year, they didn’t meet that often, at least not in person, but they texted a lot and sometimes even talked on the phone. It usually started with a good excuse, like the time Peter asked about getting a suit upgrade, but they always ended up talking for hours; at first, it was always about Peter’s classes, Tony’s projects, Avengers’ missions, that sort of thing, but slowly their conversations became more personal, intimate. One night, Tony told him his relationship with Pepper was over – had been for a few months at the time, but the press didn’t know about it yet.

Peter didn’t know what to feel when he heard that – on one hand, Tony sounded broken. He wasn’t drunk, thankfully, he’d been sober a few years, but he was clearly devastated, even if all that ever came out of his lips was _“It’s okay, I just want her to be happy”. _On the other hand, Peter had fallen in love with him over all those months, and he knew he was just a kid and he shouldn’t really know what love was, and people would assume it was just a crush, hero worship, but he just knew deep in his bones that he loved that man. With all his scars and all his flaws, his crazy ideas and his acid jokes, his genius inventions and his big heart.

He didn’t say anything, though, he was just an eighteen year old kid, and even though Tony never really treated him like a child, he knew he didn’t stand any chance. Tony was forty-eight at the time, the richest man in the world, he was fucking Iron Man, the man who saved the whole universe with a snap of his fingers and lived to tell the tale – he was way, _way_ out of Peter’s league and he was okay with it. The fact that the man was willing to talk to him, be his friend, his mentor, whatever, was good enough for Peter. He’d take anything he could get.

He was nineteen when he got back for his first summer break. They all agreed that it would be best for him to stay with the Avengers at the compound, for training exercises and meetings, and he could go home to stay with May during the weekends. Tony didn’t live in the compound at the time, he lived in his penthouse in the city, but he was there almost everyday during Peter’s summer break. His very first night there, actually, Tony invited him to dinner in his private living quarters and then they headed down to the lab and started a bit of a routine. They would spend hours together down there, Tony helped him with his projects and with his school work and Peter helped him with S.I.’s new products and with suits upgrades for all the Avengers. It was already perfect, already so much more than he could hope for.

But it got better. One night, when they were both exhausted after almost 33 hours working non-stop, Peter was babbling about his sparring match with Natasha and how he got his ass handed to him when Tony kissed him. Peter figured he did it because he wasn’t even thinking straight anymore, blind from exhaustion, maybe he just wanted him to shut up, so he took the chance and kissed him back, trying to commit every detail to memory, every single taste and texture, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around his waist, his beard brushing against his soft skin, the smell of grease and sweat, and the taste of coffee and too much chocolate to keep them going for so many hours. He thought he’d never get to experience that again, but he was wrong.

Tony didn’t pretend like nothing happened the next day, he greeted him with a kiss good morning when he walked into the kitchen. The other Avengers present stared, but didn’t say anything. The younger man’s insides were in knots, he was so happy, excited, anxious, and so fucking _in love_ with that man. They only had _The Talk_ that night at dinner, in Tony’s quarters.

“I know you’ve probably heard a lot of shit about me, kid, and I need you to know it’s all true, okay?” Peter stared at him with big, round eyes, cheeks full of spaghetti – that Tony had cooked with his own hands, which somehow made it tastier –, surprised by his words because they had been talking shop and pretending that that wasn’t a date until that moment. “I was a bit of a player –“ Peter actually choked on his spaghetti at that. “Wh – are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sorry, go on.” Peter took a huge sip of water and prepared himself for the blow. That was Tony’s way of dumping him gently, apparently. It involved pasta, candlelit dinner and stories about his playboy years. Great.

“So, I was a bit of a player, I’m sure you’ve heard that, and it’s all true, but – I’m too old for that shit now. I don’t – I’m not like that anymore. I’m saying this because you’re young, you’re in college, and I’m sure you’re not looking for anything serious, you’re just having fun, and I should have thought of that before – before I kissed you. I don’t do ‘just fun’ anymore, kid. So I understand if you wanna stop this right now, I just wanna let you know there’s no hard feelings if you do, it changes nothing, we’ll still be friends, and lab buddies, and sidekicks or whatever. Ok? It doesn’t have to change anything.” It took a while for Peter to piece the words together in a way that made sense, but when he did, his eyes rounded and he choked – again – on his water. “Pete –“

“I want things to change,” Peter blurted, face red with embarrassment and lack of oxygen – either or. The older man seemed a little surprised, but his expression remained neutral. “I-I don’t do ‘just fun’ either, Tony. It’s not me. I want this – us – to mean something. If you’re willing to try.”

And try they did. They learned as they went, one day at a time. As mature as Peter liked to think he was, he _was_ nineteen, and very inexperienced when it came to relationships, so he let Tony take the lead. The older man didn’t mind to take it slow – way too slow, even for Peter. They went on dates that ended with chaste kisses in front of Peter’s bedroom door, Tony never offered to come in. Those dates escalated to movie marathons in Tony’s quarters, where hands and lips were finally allowed to wander, but always above the waist.

Peter wasn’t a virgin and he told Tony that, but still the older man wouldn’t even try to go any further then a little kissing, so, on his last week home, Peter took matters into his own hands and straddled him, blushing furiously, and kissed him hard, pressing his hard-on against Tony’s. He wished he had done that sooner, apparently it was all the green light Tony needed to get things going. Waking up beside the older man the next day was arguably the best thing that had happened all summer and they barely left the room for those last seven days. But when they finally did, Tony had to drive him to the airport with the promise to visit in a month.

They made it work around their tight schedules, between Peter’s classes, Tony running S.I. and they both saving the world on occasion, they had candlelit dinners, quiet movie nights and slow love-making in the shower. If they had enough time for a short trip, Tony would take Peter out of the country, somewhere secluded and safe, where they could spend an entire day lying on the beach or cuddled up in front of a fireplace.

That was Peter’s first relationship, and it seemed to make Tony feel insecure and – guilty. Most of the time, the older man just let it happen, just rolled with it; some other times, though, he’d freak out and rant about how Peter should be out there living his life, meeting people, kissing other mouths. Not even once did Peter feel tempted to do any of that, so as Tony freaked out, he just looked at him and smiled softly, waiting for him to finish to tell him that _“It’s okay, we’ll be okay”._

As the years passed after Thanos, things finally started to settle down, the world was as peaceful as it could possibly get, at least Peter thought so. The Avengers weren’t needed as often, so slowly people started leaving the compound, some even moving away from the city or the country – Wanda and Vision were the first to leave for Europe. By Peter’s third summer home, there wasn’t anyone at the compound, so he stayed with Tony at the penthouse.

The older man seemed surprised when Peter showed up, he probably had just assumed that he’d stay with May, but he was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling all day long. It was a new experience for them, “living together”. At the compound, even if Tony had his own living quarters and they mostly stayed there, there were other people involved in their daily routine, way too many people.

At the penthouse, it was just them – they shared house chores, Tony complained about doing the dishes, Peter chastised him about wet towels on the bed, they cooked together and Peter tried not to ruin whatever they were making. Tony worked most of the day a few floors down and Peter stayed in the workshop, working on his personal projects or studying. He’d put together an easy, healthy lunch and he’d head down to Tony’s office so they could eat together everyday. Sometimes they only had fifteen minutes before the older man had to get back to work, some other times they even had enough time for some fun before eating.

They started going out together publicly and the press went wild, but they didn’t really mind. They went to functions together, helped at May’s charity events, had dinner at fancy restaurants or at Burger King, whatever felt right at the moment. Tony took it upon himself to dress Peter up, declaring himself the most stylish out of the two of them, he always picked the (matching) outfits they’d wear to go out in public, which was why Peter’s last day home before summer was over was so ironic.

He had just finished doing laundry when Tony walked through the door, limping slightly and wincing. Peter dropped the basket of clean clothes he was carrying to their room and rushed to his side.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, looking Tony all over. He seemed fine, didn’t smell of blood or anything, but Peter hadn’t turned on the TV or checked his phone all day, he could have gotten in trouble as Iron Man and he wouldn’t know – although, FRIDAY would probably tell him.

“Nah, I’m fine, it’s just these new shoes, they’ve been killing me all day long.” He winced as he leaned on the wall to take them off and Peter stared at the expensive leather shoes with a frown.

“I told you they weren’t comfortable enough for work, these are obviously party shoes, you’re not supposed to spend a whole day on your feet in them,” he chastised, as Tony sighed in relief, slumped against the wall with his eyes closed when his feet were free.

“And I told you there’s no such thing as party shoes and work shoes.” Tony opened his eyes to narrow them at Peter when the younger man crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, I guess I was right, then, huh?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow, and Tony laughed.

“Yes, I guess you were. As usual.” He rolled his eyes and opened his arms. “Be a good boy and come kiss it better.”

“I really shouldn’t, you stubborn ass. You’re lucky you look so hot in that suit.” He dragged his eyes over Tony’s body and felt the blood rush south. Tony was 51, and just like fine wine, he only seemed to get better over time. He approached the older man and let him hold him, burying his face in his neck, where he placed a soft kiss.

“You smell like fabric softener, were you doing laundry?” Tony muttered against the top of his head and Peter nodded, feeling the older man’s arms tighten around him. “Are you packed yet?”

“Not yet, I’ll do it later, maybe after dinner. Are you hungry?” He snuggled closer to the other man and felt him nod against his head. “FRI, our Saturday usual.” The AI didn’t even answer, sensing the quietness of them room, and they stayed there by the door for a few more minutes. “Are you stalling because you don’t think you can walk to the couch, old man?” Peter whispered after he almost fell asleep with his nose buried in the other’s neck.

“Shut up, brat,” Tony grunted, pushing the younger man away softly, eliciting giggles from him. “No, but seriously, don’t you ever let me walk out of the house wearing those again.” He huffed, pushing away from the wall to start limping towards the couch. “Actually, remind me to burn them or something.”

“Well, I did try to stop you this morning, you big baby, you never listen to me.” Peter rolled his eyes, watching with amusement as Tony tried to make his way to the living room. He picked up Tony’s shoes then went back to get the basket he’d dropped earlier and headed to their bedroom. “Stay put, I’m just gonna put these away, then I can give you a massage.”

“I love you forever!” Tony shouted from the living room as Peter disappeared down the hallway.

“I know!”

When Peter got back to the living room, Tony was lying on the couch, no suit jacket, no tie and with pretty much all of his shirt’s buttons undone. He had and arm thrown over his eyes and was snoring softly. Peter smiled with fondness and decided to make some tea as they waited for dinner – Tony used to hate tea, but they were trying to cut down on caffeine, mostly because the older man’s doctors thought it might help with his insomnia and maybe even with the nightmares.

He made chamomile tea and grabbed a bottle of massage oil from the bathroom, when he got back to the living room, he watched Tony sleeping peacefully for a while, it was such a rare occurrence, Peter was always asleep before him – he was afraid to ask Friday how many hours of sleep the man got each night. It was nice to see him so calm and relaxed, he was always on top of everything, trying to fix anything he thought was wrong with the world, even when it wasn’t needed.

He sat on the opposite end of the couch and put Tony’s legs on his lap; he stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. Peter took off his socks and dripped some of the oil on his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. As soon his applied pressure to the sole of his right foot, Tony startled awake, moaning.

“Oh, fuck, right there, baby.” He arched his back, clearly in pain, but the good kind of pain. “Ooh, I really needed this.”

“Good thing we don’t have neighbors.” Peter smirked, letting his thumbs slide all the way down to the arch of his foot, then up to his sole again. Tony grunted, but said nothing smart back, truly enthralled by the massage. “You look tired, did something happen? Besides the bad shoes.”

“Nah, just the usual bullshit. There was a board meeting today, but it was short. Then I had a meeting with a few investors, that was long as fuck, even Pepper was pissed by the end of it. Then I headed back to R&D to see if I could get some work done, but not really. So just basically a lot of walking around with pain, both physical and psychological, ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking that you’re gonna leave tomorrow and I should be spending your last day here with you.” He pouted slightly and reached one of his hands to rub Peter’s arm. “I’m really sorry, love, I really wish I could have stayed.”

“It’s just one day, Tones, we had a great summer.” Peter grinned, lifting his foot to place a kiss on the bridge, then made circular motions on Tony’s sole and the ball of his foot, where it seemed to hurt the most by the sounds he made. “Drink your tea.” When Tony started complaining, he pressured his arch a bit harder, making him yelp. “None of that, mister, we agreed we’d try this, didn’t we? When I’m gone, you have to promise me you’ll keep it up. And only one cup of coffee a day, okay? No more than that, I mean it.”

“Yes, mom.” The older man smirked, poking Peter’s ribs with his foot, but the young man grabbed it before he could tickle him. He glared at him sternly, resuming the massage, moving his fingers up to his heel and ankle.

“If you act like a baby, I’ve gotta act like your mom.” Peter rolled his eyes, hearing the other man chuckle.

“Is it weird that I find it hot when you mother-hen me? Does that mean I have a mommy kink? Since you call me daddy in bed, should I call you mommy?” He pretended to wonder out loud and Peter burst out laughing, shaking his head in exasperation.

“You’re impossible, Tony Stark.” He smiled fondly at his older boyfriend, finishing the massage by rubbing his toes one by one, before moving to the other foot.

“You like it.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk, but Peter just kept smiling at him.

“I _love_ it.”

They fell silent as Peter moved his hands over Tony’s left foot. It was established early in their relationship that Peter gave great massages, his super-strength and super-soft hands were the perfect combination for a good kneading. Whenever they came home from battle battered and bruised, Peter would rub Tony’s back, his feet, his calves – not many people knew that, but operating the Iron Man suit actually required a lot of strength and it often put a strain on Tony’s body.

“Come here, baby,” Tony called him quietly once he was done with his left foot and Peter went willingly, snuggling to his chest and trying to make himself as small as possible in order to fit against the older man. “I’m really gonna miss you, love.”

“I know, I’m gonna miss you, too, Tony, so much. You have no idea,” Peter whispered back, nosing the other’s throat, smelling what was left of his cologne and aftershave, a smell he grew so used to it made him calm and relaxed.

“I think I do.” He felt Tony smile against the crown of his had and he sighed.

“Just one more year, okay?” He raised his head so he could look at the older man’s face. He looked back at him, smiling softly. Tony held his chin and kissed his lips gently as he nodded.

“Just one more year,” he agreed, and they fell silent again, Peter’s head back to resting on his chest. “Next summer, when you come back for good – will you – where are you staying?“

“Are you preemptively kicking me out?” He asked, amused, moving again to look at the older man, who frowned at him.

“Of course not!” He sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds, before focusing on his face again “Peter, I really want you to move in with me, but are you sure you wanna do this? Baby, you’re _so_ young, you could –“

“Don’t ruin this, Tony.” He placed a finger on his lips, beaming. “I wanna remember today as the day you asked me to move in. Don’t taint it with one your speeches about how I should be sleeping around with college boys.”

“That’s not what –“ The older man started indignantly and Peter laughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Shh, just shut up and kiss me, that’s all I wanna remember.” He didn’t give Tony time to answer as he leaned in and crushed their lips together. For a few seconds, the older man still tried to protest, but soon melted into the kiss, hands sliding down Peter’s back to hold him close. When they parted, Tony had a slightly confused look.

“So, what just happened is I asked you to move in and you said yes?” Peter grinned, nodding excitedly, and the older man chuckled, petting his curls fondly. “You do realize that your future involves a lot of foot rubs and back massages, right? You’re basically marrying an old man.”

“I think I can handle that, I have strong, steady hands, so we’re good.” He closed the distance between them again, tasting Tony’s laugh on his lips as he closed his eyes, thinking that was a very small price to pay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! This is a prompt fill for an Anon on tumblr, who requested sweet Peter giving Tony a foot massage <3  
My tumblr is @css1992, if you'd like to follow me or just come say hi \o/  
If you have the time and if you really enjoyed this, please leave a comment, let me know what you think, I always answer all the comments! <3  
Thanks for reading! Kudos are deeply appreciated!


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